Eskimo pie is out of the igloo. Now it’s Edy’s pie, which doesn’t offer the chill, refreshing associations of Eskimos on a sweltering summer day, does it? And there’s Aunt Jemima. Wave goodbye to her too. Quaker has yet to debut her new name, but it’s not long in coming, we’re told.
Ages ago, Aunt Jemima sported a head cloth, something similar to what Willie wore during my childhood. Willie was my grandmother’s maid of many decades. Quaker gussied up Jemima’s appearance years ago, losing the headgear and making her a younger woman with a smiling face. Good grief! A young, black woman in a good mood.
Horrid and racist!
Uncle Ben’s rice is also gone. Now it’s gonna be Ben’s Original because, I guess, being an Uncle is horrid and racist! That switch took place just a few weeks ago. Mrs. Butterworth’s is changing completely, not just the name but the bottle shape, which is that of a matronly woman who abandoned her gym routine long ago.
Stay tuned for Mrs. Butterworth’s new look.
What does all this nonsense have in common? Political correctness. And which end of the political chasm embraces political correctness? The left side, of course. And which political party would that be? (Insert mental image.)
The West now lives in a world with insufficient real problems, so stupid ones are being embraced and “solved.” But wait! There are real problems. Consider China.
It started for me in 2007 when it came to light that the Obamas had sat for 20 years in the church of the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, he of the “Goddamn America” sermon. Wright was quickly muzzled by Obama’s handlers.
It went downhill from there between me and the Democrat Party for which my entire family had proudly voted for decades.
There was Political Correctness, that ham-fisted ideology that blossomed in the 1990s and just got worse. Later, the lunacy kicked in. Putting fat gals in the Swimsuit Edition of Sports Illustrated in the name of “equality.” Obesity is a serious health issue, not something to be glorified. Obesity isn’t just another valid lifestyle choice.
And there is Cancel Culture. Share our opinion or be fired. From the disturbing, it’s descended into madness. Take Aunt Jemima off the syrup jar. Change the names of sports teams. Don black clothing and masks to march and riot in the streets.
Can’t dress like Pancho Villa for Halloween unless you’re Mexican. Actors can’t play disabled people in movies unless they are themselves disabled.
Last night at the restarting of the NBA games, every player and coach on both teams, 100 percent, took to their knees before the national anthem, thumbing their noses at the flag of the nation that made them wealthy and privileged.
Conservatives are squelched online by Big Tech. Black Lives Matter — which consists to a great degree of white leftists whose aim is Marxism, a word they wisely removed from their website not long ago — still laughably states on its website:
We disrupt the Western-prescribed nuclear family.
The film classic Gone With the Wind is blocked from online streaming. Statues are toppled, not just of Gen. Robert E. Lee but the Great Emancipator Abraham Lincoln himself, which demonstrates a dizzying level of ignorance.
Speaking of nincompoopery, here’s a very smart and brave girl who goes by Cringe Panda online. Her internet fame has skyrocketed since the first of the year. Watch her address the appalling state of public education.
No need to watch the entire thing. The first five minutes will educate you.
All of the above and much more flows totally from the left side of the political divide, those people who vote Democrat. All of it, 100 percent.
And if you are unaware of the things I mentioned, consider finding news sources other than The New York Times, Washington Post, Huffpost and MSNBC.
You’re being duped.
If you are aware of the things I mentioned, and you still vote Democrat, that is far worse, and I’m ashamed of you. But let’s move on to:
The presumed Democrat presidential nominee is that hated thing, an old white man, and decades-long political hack. How did this happen?
It happened because actual Democrat voters, most of whom are not Marxists, participated in the primary elections, and apparently grass-roots Democrats were not happy with the radical choices they saw on the debate stages. Every Democrat, for instance, raised a hand when asked if they supported “free” healthcare for illegal aliens. Even Joe.
Voters opted for the old shoe they knew, smelly as it is.
Tulsi Gabbard, the best of the sorry lot, would have shot her candidacy skyward had she the bravery to leave her hand down to the question of healthcare for illegals. The move would have stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb but in a positive way. She killed her chances with that one raise of the arm.
She was the only one who had a prayer of beating Trump.
He will nominate a radical woman “of color” because the leftist party bosses have him by the short hairs. He’ll do anything to be president. He’d get on all fours and bark.
Take a close look at the vice-presidential nominee, and think hard about how Democrats are running cities and states these days. The riots, lawlessness, Antifa, BLM, high taxes, vagrancy, high-priced housing, tent cities, and so on.
Again, if you’re unaware of these things, consider finding news sources other than The New York Times, Washington Post, Huffpost and MSNBC.
You’re being duped.
Consider doing what I did in 2007: Leave the Democrat Party.
ENOUGH OF GLOOM and doom. Let’s focus on pleasures, which we have quite a few here at the Hacienda on a daily basis.
They start at dawn. The window is open for the cool night air, and when the sun rises, the birds start to sing. Neighborhood chickens too, but the birds are nearer, sweeter.
And waking at age 75 with a sleek, smooth child bride at your side on the king bed is quite the pleasure, believe me. Were I still with wives No. 1 or No. 2, I’d been waking with crones. Let’s not underestimate the pleasure of this.
Then there is food. Neither of us is a foodie, but that doesn’t mean one doesn’t find pleasure in eating. This morning was special in that we had waffles, which we rarely do because we like to remain svelte and healthy.
Atop the waffles we pour real Canadian maple syrup from Costco.
To burn off the waffle calories, we did the usual morning exercise walk around the neighborhood plaza. We normally don’t encounter many people, but during these trying times we find even fewer folks. The plaza is ours, a pleasure.
A hot shower is great too. That happens later so we smell nice, a pleasure to others.
For lunch today, it’s minestrone, which I tossed together from a very simple recipe I’ve used for decades. It’s a healthy, low-cal version, which was the reason we ate syrup-drenched waffles earlier. We deserved it.
In the afternoon, I make coffee at home, pour it into a thermos, and off we go to the big plaza downtown where we sit at a sidewalk table. I, of course, read my Kindle, and my child bride gossips with her sister. Bringing our own coffee negates the need to have the coffee house employees involved in the process during this plague year.
The less touchy-touchy you do improves your survival chances, it’s said.
That’s the primary period each day in which we escape the confines of the Hacienda to avoid going stir-crazy. Then it’s home for salads and Netflix before beddy-bye and pleasurably slipping into a world of dreams till it starts over the next day.
Plenty of pleasures available during the Plague Year.